I never thought I'd be a crewman 'aboard a privateer vessel...

Seems as though wonderous happenings might occur for a body or two every so often. I don't remember much from my childhood; mainly poverty and itchy bedding. Apparently, my father practiced the noble trade of carpentry (of which I learned that a hammer might hurt a bit) before he succumbed to The Reaper. Mother soon followed. I was the age of ten when a kindly inn-keeper provided room and board for a young boy willing to tend to the stable.

Upon reaching the age of seventeen I learned what it felt like to kill a man. It was only after an unfortunate event involving three hens, two fresh eggs, a pitchfork, and a dead Innkeeper did I find myself without employment or room. Little can be said about my life forthcoming, I became a highwayman (did I mention I had been a stable boy with reasonable taste in selecting a steed?). My life had become dependent on the unwilling sacrafice of others. Eventually, the idea of honest living glittered more than it's dis-honest counterpart due to the constant risk of my own life.

I eventually made my way to an English port and found work 'aboard a small fishing vessel named The Crimson Eel. The work was difficult but I found that it suited me... I seem to enjoy hard work. After a few voyages with the crew I was astonished to discover the captain of the vessel was acutally a lady acting as a man... ... ... and she enjoyed my company. Needless to say, we kept up appearances for the crew and secretly enjoyed eachother whenever we could until our ship was attacked by Neptunes Fortune. We quickly joined the crew to avoid death and have since began to intergrate ourselves into the crew whenever the oppertunity has occured.